


Brave

by notjustmom



Series: Season 4 Song Fics [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Bit of Fluff, M/M, Post TFP, Scars, boys finally talk a bit, yeah lots of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: "You can be amazingYou can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drugYou can be the outcastOr be the backlash of somebody's lack of loveOr you can start speaking upNothing's gonna hurt you the way that words doAnd they settle 'neath your skinKept on the inside and no sunlightSometimes a shadow winsBut I wonder what would happen if youSay what you wanna sayAnd let the words fall outHonestly I wanna see you be brave...""Brave," Jack Antonoff & Sara Bareilles





	

"I need to show you something." Sherlock mumbled late one night after John had put Rosie down again for the fourth time. "It will answer questions you will never ask me, but if I don't show you, nothing can change between us, not the way I want things to change, if you want to leave, I understand, I'm not asking you to make promises -"

"Sherlock -" John began as he sat down next to him on the couch, then stopped as Sherlock turned to face him. Sherlock had been going non-stop ever since he found out about Eurus, and it was one of the first quiet moments they had shared since 221B had been rebuilt. Sherlock was still essentially himself, some days even more so, but there were times when John would catch his eye, and see something unguarded, something raw and hopeful there. He would blink and it would be gone. John nodded and waited.

"I never told you, because it didn't matter, and frankly, it was easier not to." Sherlock looked down at his wrist and undid one cuff, then the other, and rolled up his sleeves slowly. John bit his lip as he truly examined his friend's wrists and arms for the first time in detail, and he tried not to make a sound. Sherlock took his silence as a sign for him to continue, so he stood, unbuttoned his shirt, then took it off, and let it fall to the floor. "I'm aware you will probably need time, and you won't think of me in the same way again, but I need you to know, because it will matter to you, and -"

"Turn around, Sherlock, please?" John whispered as he got to his feet, knowing in his heart what his friend had been hiding from him all this time; he should have guessed, should have known, should have been brave enough, kind enough -

Sherlock met his eyes and turned slowly, John closed his eyes when he saw his friend tremble ever so slightly. When he opened them again, Sherlock was standing stiffly, his posture rigid, head up, as if in uniform, at attention. John moved quietly so not to spook him, or wake Rosie, but he felt the tears stream down his face. They came from a place he didn't know existed within him, it wasn't pity, or sorrow exactly, but of a deep love he had suspected but could never examine too closely, for fear of being rejected, he supposed. He leaned his head forward until his forehead touched the very center of the worst of the scarring; a zigzagging twisted maze of raised pink and white blemishes that wrapped around his friend's back like a strangely misshapen tattoo. He felt Sherlock gasp, and try to catch his breath. John reached for Sherlock's hands and threaded their fingers together as he gingerly kissed between Sherlock's shoulder blades.

"John," Sherlock whimpered, but his fingers tightened around John's.

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock." John brushed his lips down Sherlock's spine.

"No. Don't." Sherlock dropped his hands and spun on him, eyes flashing, and John knew he was ready to bolt. John pulled his t shirt over his head and heard Sherlock's own muffled noise of alarm. John had never bared his own scars to anyone before, even Mary had been understanding of his need not to share them with her, but he knew Sherlock needed to see them, touch them, accept them, if they were going to be truly together, without secrets. It wasn't just the war that had left its mark, the years of abuse he had joined the military to escape had laid waste; he had always been a warrior, a survivor first, then a doctor, someone who could help others to heal. He had believed he had dealt with his fears and anger by training and serving, but when he had hit Sherlock on his return, and nearly killed him in the mortuary, he finally understood how wrong he had been.

He closed his eyes tightly, afraid to see the questions, or worse yet, the deductions in Sherlock's face. He sighed and felt his knees buckle as he felt Sherlock's lips on skin that had never been touched by anything but hatred and pain. Sherlock caught him in his arms then guided them gently down onto the new carpet. 

They lay there in silence for what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes at the most. Sherlock rested his cheek just over John's heart, and he could feel the detective's hot tears stream over him. John wrapped his arms carefully around Sherlock, not flinching when his fingers found jagged ridges.

"All that matters, Sherlock," he started quietly when he found his voice at last, "is that we made it here together. I think we survived so we could finally find someone who would understand. I have loved you in ways I didn't understand before, I wasn't ready to understand until now. I am so very sorry, Sherlock. You will never know how much I wish I had done better by you -"

Sherlock kissed a single ancient cigarette burn effectively ending any further apologies. "We have done our best to save one another for so long, we don't know how to simply love each other, like 'normal' people do. Do you think we could try that?"

John blinked back tears, then opened his eyes to see Sherlock gazing down at him, and he knew he had found the only true love of his life. "Please?"

"Good." Sherlock managed a lopsided grin, then grimaced. "Then let's get up before we do more damage, yeah?" He managed to get to his feet, then offered John his hand, and pulled him into his arms. "I love you, too, John Watson."


End file.
